


As You Like It

by TheWillowBends



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Good Sex, Humor, Idiots in Love, Laughter During Sex, Masturbation, Post-Season 5A, Romance, Sexual Humor, Smut, So Many Sexual Positions So Little Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26287033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWillowBends/pseuds/TheWillowBends
Summary: She wants him every way, any way she can.  That's the problem.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 26
Kudos: 422





	As You Like It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [matchstick_dolly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchstick_dolly/gifts), [Arlome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlome/gifts).



> Tumblr Prompt for Arlome!

“I have to turn in the witness report by six tomorrow,” Chloe says thoughtfully, tilting her head to let Lucifer kiss a line down her throat. He hums into her collarbone, letting his mouth linger there, his tongue tracing a warm little circle, before he worries it a little with his teeth. She groans, leaning into him.

“I suppose Daniel will be picking up the urchin,” Lucifer comments.

“Oh shit, that’s right. She has practice tomorrow, and he’s working the late shift.” She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “Maybe if I drop it off at five, I can get there in time.”

“This would hardly be a problem had you simply allowed me to buy her a car like I offered.”

“She’s _fourteen_.”

He sighs. “As you insisted. Regardless, I will retrieve your burdensome offspring and deliver her home safely.”

She blows out a breath. “You would?”

“Certainly.”

Chloe presses a kiss against his jaw, enjoying the roughness of his stubble against her mouth.

“You’re too sweet.”

“Hopefully not _too_ sweet,” he says with a grin. Lucifer smooths a hand across her hip and up her back, before hooking it under her bra and effortlessly unclasping it. She rolls her shoulders to help him remove it, which he does with exacting sensuality, the pleasure of undressing her plain on his features. Once removed, he makes a show of dropping it off the edge of the bed with a twirl, before he leans in and kisses her again.

A hand comes up and cups her breast, fingers playing at the nipple. The other slips down past her waist, seeking out her clit and brushing it teasingly. She groans a little into his mouth, then slips a hand down to grasp him, evening the score. He breaks the kiss to huff out a laugh, thrusting a little into her hand.

“How do you want it?” he asks between kisses, his mouth warm and wet against hers.

“You mean,” she says, fluttering her lashes in demure appraisal, “what do I _yearn_ for?”

He laughs, and the sound warms her belly, as much as his kiss or the touch of his hand. He presses a kiss beneath her ear.

“Surely, there is a better word for that,” he murmurs into her skin.

“Not that I know of, but I can be convinced.”

She thinks for a minute, considering. Really, the problem is that she wants him every way, all the time, but that’s not conducive to decision making. They go around in circles sometimes, like puppies chasing their own tails, trying to catch each other’s desire between their teeth. Gently tightening her hand, she smiles as his breath stutters.

“Is there something _you_ want?” she parries, stroking him lightly.

He sighs and says, “Everything,” and she can’t help but laugh, bumping her nose against his, kissing him.

“We’re getting nowhere,” she mumbles against his lips. It’s still good, though, quiet for a moment as they touch each other, only the sound of their quickened breath between them.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says finally, his eyes full of mischief.

Her hips flex as his fingers press down firmer onto her clit, and she sighs with pleasure. She groans when he extracts his hand.

“Lucifer,” she says, her voice close enough to a whine that he smirks. It makes her want to slap him then sit on his face.

Instead of indulging her wishes, he leans back, easing his weight back against the headboard. Spread out, she can see every long, delicious inch of him, muscled and smooth, a body literally carved by divine hands. It sends a shiver of something warm and pleasing through her, and she can tell he knows it from the way he arches a little, peacocking, letting his muscles flex handsomely. She runs a tongue along the seam of her mouth, wanting him, unfathomable narcissism and all.

“Do you want me to go down on you?” she asks, a little hungrily, letting her gaze linger on his cock. She leans forward, placing her hands on his thighs in anticipation, and watches it twitch a little, making it clear the offer holds plenty of appeal, but Lucifer shakes his head, throwing an arm behind him. He lets her suffer for a moment, laid out like some kind of Grecian pottery mosaic, partly because he insists gratification was always best _delayed_ , but mostly because he is an egotistical bastard.

Running a thumb across his lips, he smiles a little, like he knows full well how much she’s aching for it, then said, “Touch yourself.”

She groans, pushing herself off him, then shifts back on her knees, spreading out to brace herself well. She looks at him keenly, letting her eyes drift over him again, hoping to convey something in her gaze that smolders as much as she does for him. Her hand slides over her breast, drifting over the slim line of her hip, then dips toward her center, until her fingers land on her clit. Gasping a little, she arches into her own touch, before pressing down more firmly and starting a counterclockwise motion.

Lucifer watches her with eyes narrowed and a smirk playing at his lips. His own hand strokes lightly over his chest, playing at a nipple, before slipping down to his thigh, where his hand lingers temptingly, never quite touching where she wants. With a groan, she closes her eyes, changing the rhythm of her hand, shifting to a faster, more intense vertical movement.

“Put your fingers in yourself.”

She whimpers but complies, leaving her clit to play at her opening, spreading her knees wider so he got a better view of her folds as she slipped her fingers inside. It was almost embarrassing, how wet she is, but she wants him to see it, what he does to her. They slick in easily, moving smoothly in and out, and this time Lucifer groans.

“ _Detective_ ,” he says, a little breathless, and then, “ _Don’t stop_ ,” and she grins a little hearing it, biting her lip. The best part of sex with Lucifer was that one was never alone in their pleasure. What he did to her was one thing, but he made it clear the relationship was reciprocal, an open circle twisting back to find itself; desire passes back and forth between them continuously like a Newton’s cradle of erotic potential.

Chloe moves her other hand to her breast, cupping it, then pinches the nipple between her thumb and index finger. She hums a little, rocking into her hand, while the other tugs on her nipple, rolling it between her forefingers. The ache between her thighs is warming, the tension tightening like a rope pulled taut, the strands fraying. Pushing a thumb down on her clit, she lets out a sound that begins as a sigh and transforms into a moan midway, and she feels herself starting to unravel, hips undulating into her touch reflexively, her whole body trembling with pleasure and tension.

“ _Chloe_.”

Her eyes snap open at the proximity of his voice, and he’s right there, his eyes hot and wild. He grabs her hand, toppling her easily and following her down, like she’s a weight to which he’s tethered, and the bed bounces a little with their fall.

Her whole body is a live wire; she writhes under him, contorting into desperate, aching shapes. “Lucifer, _please_.”

He complies with a kiss, all tongue and teeth, slipping an arm under her leg and throwing it over his shoulder. He pushes into her hard, no time to adjust, but she doesn’t need it - she always wants him so badly that it’s like a constant, throbbing ache, a second heartbeat beside hers, wanting his kiss, his touch, whatever he can give her in the time they have -

And she’s already wound up so well, it’s a matter of seconds before she comes, her whole body tightening and focusing around one burning point, like the spasm of a too tightly clasped fist, and then it rolls out in waves that have her moving helplessly beneath him, moaning and crying and babbling. Her hands scrabble at his arms, her nails digging into them; he’s impervious to any damage she can cause him these days, but it does it for him anyway. He groans loudly, rocking into her, and it’s so good, and she knows she’s going to come again, but she wants it for him too, she wants -

“Lucifer, I -“

Her voice cuts off as he pushes a thumb firmly into her clit, rubbing a tight, hot circle that makes her arch off the bed and cry out, and then she is coming again, and she’s completely gone, all of the words struck from her tongue. The sound that gets caught in her throat is something almost inhuman, like an animal keening, a whole body made dumb with pleasure and desire, a _yearning_ she can longer voice -

Lucifer comes with a gasp, pressing down on her hard as he fucks her through it, and he is so beautiful like this it makes her heart ache, free of all the trappings of vanity he wears like armor, his face open to her, looking as wild and free as he makes her feel. She reaches her hands up to catch him as he stutters to a stop, falling into her. Her leg slides off his shoulder and then open, before she moves it to tangle them both in his, holding him to her as they come down from the high.

It’s sticky and sweaty and a little gross, but she holds him anyway, enjoying the way his heart beats so rapidly, in tandem with hers. The way he’s breathless in his arms the way she is for him. They linger for a long moment, catching their breath; she presses a kiss against his shoulder when he stirs.

He pulls back a little, bringing up a hand up to stroke her face, a thumb tracing the line of her lip. His eyes are bright and happy, the color of warm earth, and she brings up her hands to frame his face, kissing him.

“I love you,” she says against his lips, at first softly, then again, louder, as she nuzzles her face against his because he deserves to hear it over and over, without the weight of fear or the pain of a farewell behind it.

“I know,” he says, grinning, and she rolls her eyes, before he settles against her more firmly, placing a kiss against her neck.

“I love you, too,” he whispers into her skin, and it has the touch and taste of a lasting promise.


End file.
